ThunderKittens
by paintupurple
Summary: A series of ficlets depicting Lion-o and Tygra's childhoods in Thundera, and the strength of brotherhood. Littered with so much cuteness your heart just might explode.
1. My Hero, Tygra!

**Full summary:** A series of ficlets about young Tygra and Lion-o's adventures in Thundera, full of enough sugary sweetness to make you puke rainbows and glitter. Set technically in the 2011 series 'verse, but since so little is known about Thundera and the princes' childhoods anyway, I will take as many liberties as I want. Also, these ficlets are based on the idea that, after they defeat Mumm Ra and restore peace and whatnot to Thundera, Tygra and Lion-o will get together (I blame the bell ringing line). However, the story is set in a time when they consider each other family and nothing more, so if you're against the pairing or whatever, it seriously doesn't affect the story whatsoever. Promise. Also these ficlets will jump around in time, but will probably not go any further than Lion-o's early teens. Tygra is four years older than Lion-o here.

**Disclaimer:** _Thundercats_ belongs to Cartoon Network and I own a total of 0% of it.

**Chapter 1: My Hero, Tygra**

Bare feet thudded against the dirt roads of an obscure neighborhood in Thundera, far from the royal palace. They'd been running for nearly an hour, and Tygra would have thought Snarf was lost if it weren't for the quick twists and turns he took without hesitation through the maze of streets.

"Are you sure he's down here?" the young prince asked for the umpteenth time, too out of breath to be irritated.

Snarf looked over his shoulder and made a reassuring sound before hurtling around another corner. They found themselves in an open, grassy area overtaken with weeds; Tygra assumed, from the abandoned ball or two, that this was a popular place for the local kids to play. The uneven dirt roads and ramshackle houses surrounding the field made him anxious to scamper back to the familiar spoils of a privileged life. Quickening his pace, he ran up to where Snarf was clawing at a tree, making distressed noises.

Tygra squinted up at the branches of the oak tree. Sure enough, he soon spotted expensive-looking clothing covering trembling paws.

"Little brother!" he called, cupping his hands around his mouth.

After a moment, a mane of red fur peeked out from behind the leaves. Two wide, blue-green eyes stared nervously down at him.

"Tygra?" Lion-o called back in a quivering voice.

"Who else would it be?" Tygra sighed, smiling despite himself. "Why are you up there?"

"Um..." Lion-o averted his gaze, biting his lower lip. "No reason."

"Uh-huh." Tygra crossed his arms over his chest, an amused look crossing his features. "You wouldn't happen to be _stuck_, would you?"

"No!" Lion-o denied, far too quickly.

"Ok then, come down," he challenged.

A long silence stretched out between them, during which the two princes stared at each other; one rather smugly from the ground, one with his claws buried into the tree.

Finally, Lion-o muttered, "I... might be a little stuck..."

Tygra sighed heavily and dropped his arms, worry for his younger brother winding its way through his mind despite his best efforts to keep it at bay.

"Hang on," he instructed, coming closer to the tree. Of course he would hang on, what else could he do? Stupid baby brother. What kind of cat got stuck in a _tree_, of all places? When he got up there, he would give him an earful.

Shaking his head to himself and marveling at what a good brother he was, Tygra easily climbed up the tree to where the prince was perched. As soon as Lion-o's big, pleading eyes met his, all thoughts of lecturing him on responsibility flew from Tygra's mind. He sighed once more.

"Come on," he said quietly, reaching for Lion-o. "Take my hand."

Lion-o pursed his lips in concentration and shakily let go of the branch to take Tygra's out-stretched paw. Balancing precariously on a thin branch below him and clinging to the trunk with one hand, Tygra carefully gathered his brother into his arms.

"Easy on the death grip, Lion-o, jeez," he grumbled in feigned irritation, even as his chest swelled with pride and relief.

"Sorry," came the small response.


	2. First Words

**Full summary:** A series of ficlets about young Tygra and Lion-o's adventures in Thundera, full of enough sugary sweetness to make you puke rainbows and glitter. Set technically in the 2011 series 'verse, but since so little is known about Thundera and the princes' childhoods anyway, I will take as many liberties as I want. Also, these ficlets are based on the idea that, after they defeat Mumm Ra and restore peace and whatnot to Thundera, Tygra and Lion-o will get together (I blame the bell ringing line). However, the story is set in a time when they consider each other family and nothing more, so if you're against the pairing or whatever, it seriously doesn't affect the story whatsoever. Promise. Also these ficlets will jump around in time, but will probably not go any further than Lion-o's early teens. Tygra is four years older than Lion-o here.

**Disclaimer:** _Thundercats_ belongs to Cartoon Network and I own a total of 0% of it.

Also, as a side-note! I'd like to give credit to the Ask-Tygra blog on Tumblr for being the inspiration for the previous chapter. They drew a cute little picture of Tygra saving Lion-o from a tree when they were kids, and I thought, you know what this picture needs? SOME FANFICTION TO GO WITH IT.

Anyway, enjoy!

**Chapter Two: First Words**

Tygra would never admit it to anyone, but he loved his little brother. When Claudus would make him watch Lion-o, he'd put up the same arguments, pout, cross his arms, and pretend to be annoyed; but on the inside, he'd be thrilled to spend more time with the tiny prince. At the age of six, Tygra loved to demonstrate his advanced reading skills to anyone who would listen, and Lion-o was _always_willing to listen.

He would balance the two-year-old on his lap and open a big book before him, feeling the small tufts of bright red mane tickle his chin as he read. The books were always tales of adventures, sometimes with gods and great monsters, sometimes with famous thundercats, and always filled with colorful pictures for Lion-o to look at. The baby would listen with rapt attention as Tygra read, touching the pictures with his little paws in wonder. Tygra knew he probably didn't understand a word he was saying, but he still made for a great audience.

When Lion-o would start getting restless, Tygra would put the book away and play games with him. He loved to make him laugh, or get that look of honest bewilderment that only babies get; and although Lion-o's vocabulary was limited to baby babble and gurgling noises, Tygra would carry him around the palace, pointing to things and saying their names. Most of all, he would point to himself and say, "Tygra. Tygra," over and over.

One day, after his private lessons, Tygra entered Lion-o's playroom with a sour look on his face and sat down with his back against the wall, glaring at nothing. He had been having a bad day, first getting in trouble in the morning for wandering off the palace grounds without supervision, then with his teacher for calling him a stupid-head; the old cat had made him write "I shall not disrespect my elders" fifty times in his notebook, which turned to seventy times when Tygra had asked him how to spell "disrespect," even though he had been completely serious. He really hadn't known how to spell it.

He buried his head in his arms moodily. Lion-o, who had been playing with blocks under the watchful eye of a maid, switched his eyes to Tygra.

"Bah!" he gibbered, giving his big brother an inquisitive look.

Tygra ignored him, not really in the mood to play.

"Guh... bubbah..." Lion-o mumbled to himself, shifting.

Curious, Tygra glanced at him. The toddler had stood up and was waddling toward him, still making babbling noises. Tygra remembered it was he who had taught Lion-o to walk, just a few months ago. Now he practically needed a leash just so the servants wouldn't lose him.

Lion-o stopped at his side and petted Tygra's hair fretfully.

"It's okay, little brother," Tygra told him, some of his frustration replaced with affection. "I'm just having kind of a bad day." Crisscrossing his legs, he gently pulled the toddler into his lap. Lion-o kept petting his head and ears, smiling now in his infectious way.

"Buh?" Lion-o asked, tugging on his ears.

"Yeah. Thanks, Lion-o," Tygra said, taking his little hands in his own. "You always know what to say."

"Tygra!"

Tygra blinked, staring at his brother in shock.

"Tygra!" Lion-o exclaimed again, giggling and waving their hands around. Across the room, the maid gasped and ran from the room to get Claudus.

"Yeah, that's me!" Tygra said, a delighted grin spreading across his face.

"Tygra! Tygra, Tygra!" Lion-o chanted happily.

A warm feeling bubbled up in Tygra's chest.

"That's it, Lion-o," he said adoringly, hugging his brother tightly. "That's my little prince."

Lion-o purred softly, his little paws curling in Tygra's hair.


	3. Copycat Kitten

**Author's Note:** I feel like I got the point across with the summary sooo no more of that. Thank you all so much for the reviews, I really appreciate them and try to respond to everyone! A special thanks to Philip Gipson and Kiara, who left lovely reviews but don't have accounts, so I couldn't reply to their messages personally.

If any of you have younger or older siblings, you are aware of the "copying" phase. I myself am an only child, but my friend assures me it gets very irritating for the older sibling haha.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own even a smidgen of Thundercats (boooooo).

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Copycat Kitten<strong>

"What are you reading?" a curious voice asked.

Tygra slowly lowered his book, his brother's face emerging behind it. Lion-o, they had all discovered, had reached the peak of his "curious phase" in recent weeks. It seemed every time the eight-year-old opened his mouth, it was to ask a question. Tygra would be lying if he said it didn't get on his nerves every now and then, especially since the cub had also taken to following him around everywhere. (Well, truthfully, they had always stuck by each other's side... it just had never bothered Tygra before.)

In response to Lion-o's question, he turned the book around so the title was facing him.

"_'Tales of Fangra the Bold_,'" Lion-o read aloud. "Sounds cool! What's it about?"

"Fangra the Bold, obviously," Tygra snapped, then instantly regretted it when Lion-o flinched, his ears angling down against his neck. Quickly, he attempted to soothe the sting.

"He was a great warrior in our lore, helping Thundera to rise to power," he explained in a gentler tone. "Here, I'll read some of it to you."

He opened his arms in invitation, but Lion-o made a face and recoiled.

"Tygra, I'm too old to sit on your lap and have stories read to me," he protested, puffing his chest out to indicate his apparent growth.

"Of course," Tygra conceded, pursing his lips in his effort not to smile.

* * *

><p>The next day, Tygra walked into the playroom to find Lion-o reading.<p>

"Hey, little brother," he greeted jovially, sitting beside Lion-o. "What are you reading?"

"_'Tales of Fangra the Bold_,'" the younger prince eagerly responded. "I can't believe he fought off an army of two hundred lizards all by himself!"

"Yeah, well... books exaggerate," Tygra said slowly, suddenly finding himself on the irritated side.

"Oh." Lion-o's face fell. "What does 'exaggerate' mean?"

Tygra sighed heavily. "You know, like, make things seem bigger and more interesting than they really are."

"Oh," Lion-o said again. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense... so, what did you do today, Tygra?"

"This and that," he said vaguely, shrugging.

"Did you practice with your whip?" the cub asked excitedly.

Since Tygra turned twelve, his training as a warrior of Thundera had expanded to include weapons. Usually, it took several years for a cat to find his weapon of choice; but in Tygra's case, the bolo-whip had come naturally as soon as he'd first picked it up.

"Yep," he confirmed, grinning. "The trainer says in a few years' time, I'll be able to start using magic with it."

"Coooooool!" Lion-o exclaimed, and Tygra couldn't help but sit a little taller with pride.

"Hey, Tygra... what kind of weapon do you think I'll get?" Lion-o asked, kicking his feet nervously.

"You're going to get the Sword of Omens, of course!" he said, wondering why his brother looked rather downcast. "It's the weapon of the king. What's the matter?"

Lion-o didn't answer at first, staring moodily at the ground; Tygra reminded himself what Jaga said, that patience was a tool always kept in a wise cat's belt.

"What if I don't want the Sword of Omens?" Lion-o murmured.

"Why wouldn't you want it? It's the greatest weapon in Thundera!" Tygra shook his head, baffled at his brother's abrupt reticence. A part of him was irrationally angry. If _he'd _had the choice, he would use the Sword of Omens in a heartbeat.

"Maybe I want a bolo-whip instead."

Suddenly all the previous feelings of irritation hit Tygra full-force.

"The bolo-whip's _my_ weapon," he said possessively.

"Why can't I have a whip, too?" Lion-o demanded.

"Because you have the sword, and the whip's mine!" Tygra countered, exasperated. He felt like the argument was just going in annoying little circles.

"Nevermind," Lion-o said with finality, hiding his face behind his book.

Scowling in agitation, Tygra slid from the couch and stalked out of the room.

* * *

><p>Several weeks later, clothes flew across the room as Tygra dug through his wardrobe, intent on finding his favorite baby blue tunic.<p>

"Nona, have you seen my tunic?" he shouted, still digging furiously.

His nurse poked her head in the doorway, surveying the piles of unkempt clothing scattered on the floor.

"No, Master Tygra," she replied. "But perhaps you're searching in the wrong place."

Tygra froze.

"_Lion-o_," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "The little brat's been taking my clothes for weeks."

Standing up, he waded through the mess on his bedroom floor, but was blocked at the door by the nurse.

"And who do you suppose will clean this mess up, Master Tygra?" she inquired, placing her paws on her hips.

"Nonaaaa," he whined. "I have to find Lion-o!"

"You can find your brother after you've cleaned your room," the nurse said sternly.

Finally, after half an hour of hurriedly shoving shirts and pants back into his wardrobe, Tygra sped down the hall in search of his whisker-headed little brother. The servants told him he was to be found on the training grounds, so the young prince flew down two flights of stairs and cut through the courtyard, all the while thinking murderous thoughts. Lion-o trying to be like him was barely tolerable in the first place; after weeks of being followed and mimicked, Tygra was about ready to scream.

He skirted around the handful of cats practicing in the open target field and headed toward the indoor arena, where he guessed Lion-o to be. Tygra wondered why he was even on the training grounds to begin with, since he was too young to start any real training; another side-effect of the big-brother complex, he supposed.

Just as he'd suspected, the indoor arena was empty save for the lone, red-maned figure crouching in the center. Tygra stilled, unwilling to believe what he was seeing; not only was Lion-o in his tunic, which was comically small on the cub, but laying on the ground a few feet away from him was Tygra's bolo-whip.

Tygra felt his blood boil as he marched up to him, fists clenched at his sides. This had gone way beyond all boundaries as far as he was concerned. A cat's weapon was a sacred item. Unlike books and clothing, that whip was unequivocally _his_, no one else's. Lion-o had no right to go anywhere near it, just like Tygra had no right to ever use the Sword of Omens.

"What are you doing, Lion-o?" he snarled, glaring venomously down at his brother.

Lion-o looked up at him, eyes swimming with tears. It was then that Tygra noticed Lion-o was cradling his left arm to his chest, and that the front of his – _Tygra's – _tunic had a red smudge on its silky blue fabric.

All the blood that had rushed to Tygra's head in senseless rage abruptly drained, chilling him. He fell to his knees, grabbing Lion-o by the elbow and tugging his arm forward, his heart skipping at the whimper his brother couldn't bite back.

"Lion-o! What happened?" he gasped, unable to look away from the red gash on Lion-o's forearm.

"I-I just," he hiccuped, wiping at his tears with his other arm. "Wanted to... I d-don't know... I'm s-sorry, I'm sorry, Tygra, I sh-shouldn't have used your whip."

Apologies kept tumbling from Lion-o's mouth as he sobbed, either from the pain or the guilt, or maybe both, Tygra wasn't sure. He shushed him, tearing a strip of cotton from his belt to wrap around the gash until he could get Lion-o to a doctor. Focusing on his breathing made it easier to control his shaking hands.

"Are you angry?" Lion-o whispered, sniffling.

"No," Tygra snapped, tying the makeshift gauze tightly.

"Yes you are."

"Shut up, Lion-o," he said sharply, fighting back his own angry tears. "Just shut up, okay?"

Lion-o stared at him in silence, still sniffling every now and then. Tygra opened his mouth, then closed it, entirely at a loss for words that weren't a variation of "Do you even _have _a brain, you stupid, selfish, idiotic baby?"

Instead, he stood up and retrieved his whip, wrapped it around itself, and put it away before coming back and sitting across from Lion-o again. The prince was avidly avoiding looking at Tygra's face, focusing on the hastily-wrapped arm in his lap.

"Hey," Tygra said, putting his hands on the sides of Lion-o's face and tilting it up. "Look at me when I'm mad at you."

Lion-o blinked, clearly not sure whether or not that was a joke and if he was supposed to laugh. He settled for a confused furrowing of his brow.

"Seriously, what you just did was the stupidest thing I ever..." Tygra stopped and took a deep breath, letting go of Lion-o's face to grip his shoulders instead. "_Never _do that again. Any of it. No more copying me, no more wearing my clothes, and if I ever see you anywhere near my whip again I will _kill _you. Got that?"

Lion-o nodded mutely and Tygra dropped his 'serious scolding' face, exhausted from all the anger and fear he'd felt in one day.

"There's a reason why you don't have a weapon yet, and why you're not going to get a bolo-whip," he explained softly, lifting his brother up as he stood. Lion-o settled his head against Tygra's neck and wrapped his legs around his torso, not saying anything. Tygra was reminded of the day he rescued Lion-o from a tree when they were younger, and the memory brought a smile to his lips.

"You're not me, baby brother, and I don't want you to be like me. You're meant for different things. Greater things."

"Really?" Lion-o lifted his head and gazed searchingly at Tygra.

"Well, yeah." Tygra nuzzled his head against Lion-o's, smiling. "You're going to be king one day. But until then, stay away from my things."


	4. Brothers

**Author's Note:** Now, I don't know if all of you are aware of this, but a rumor's been going around that in the new series, Bengali will be Tygra's blood brother. I have no idea if this rumor has any truth to it, but let's just say for this chapter's purposes that it does. ;) Also I obviously take some liberties with the enigma that is Lion-o's mom in this. Once again, I really appreciate all your wonderful feedback!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any part of ThunderCats, unfortunately.

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><p><strong>Chapter Four: Brothers<strong>

Tygra's world changed the day Lion-o was born. He was only four years old at the time, but it was a day that he would remember for the rest of his life. His first memory was of two big, green eyes staring up at him from a small bundle he cradled in his arms.

Claudus put a large hand on his shoulder. His grand, powerful face was already showing signs of the tragedy he'd just been through; of watching his wife die giving birth to his only son. Tygra was too young to understand the concept of bloodlines and succession, but something about the weight of his adoptive-father's hand and the warm body in his arms told him that his life would never be the same again.

"Tygra," Claudus said, gazing at the two of them with solemn pride. "This is your brother, Lion-o."

An impossibly tiny paw emerged from the cocoon and gripped Tygra's nose, its claws gently prickling his skin. Tygra smiled.

* * *

><p>Lion-o's world changed the day he met Bengali. He and Tygra were sparring in the courtyard, and Tygra was winning (again). At age ten, Lion-o was only just entering his training at the novice level, so his older brother could beat him blindfolded and with both paws tied behind his back.<p>

"Tygra!" a voice called, and the two turned their heads in unison toward the sound.

A cat was running toward them; or more specifically, toward Tygra. As he approached, Lion-o saw that he was the absolute spitting image of Tygra, except where his fur was orange, the newcomer's was white, and his eyes were light blue in contrast to Tygra's gold.

Tygra dropped his wooden sword and ran to meet him, wrapping him in an embrace.

"Bengali!" he exclaimed, grinning. "I haven't seen you in so long! How have you been, brother?"

Lion-o bristled. _Brother?_

"I've been well," the white tiger replied. "Panthro has taught me much. We should spar when you have the time."

Lion-o walked up to them hesitantly, still perplexed and agitated.

"Ah!" Bengali said, noticing him. "This wouldn't be Prince Lion-o, would it? You've grown so much since I last saw you."

"Who are you?" Lion-o quipped, not returning his friendly smile.

Tygra smacked him on the back of the head sharply.

"How about manners, Lion-o?"

Bengali laughed at the exchange.

"It's alright, Tygra," he said. "Of course he wouldn't remember me." He turned to Lion-o. "I met you long ago, when you were just a cub."

"Lion-o, this is my brother, Bengali," Tygra introduced.

Lion-o furrowed his brow in confusion. This was not right. Tygra had been with him since the day he was born, helping to raise him, teach him, and train him. He had even saved him once or twice. He was the favorite, true, and most agreed he would make a better king that Lion-o. Some part of Lion-o resented Tygra for being so much better than him, just like he knew a part of Tygra resented him for being the only person standing between him and the crown, but he knew that, when it came down to it, they cared for each other in a way that was nearly impossible to describe.

"But _I'm _your brother," he protested.

Tygra seemed just as confused by Lion-o's words as Lion-o was by his.

"Yeah, but..." Tygra stopped, seeming to search for the right words. "We're not really related. Claudus adopted me. Bengali is my brother by blood."

The ground underneath Lion-o's feet shifted. Suddenly, everything he saw was in a completely different light, as though he had been living his life looking through a screen. He knew he and Tygra weren't really related but, somehow, he had never translated that to them not being brothers. Now that the connection was made, he felt like a stranger in his own life. In Tygra's life.

The two stared at each other for a long moment, both trying to silently convey something. However, it seemed as though a wall had come between them, and neither was certain how to overcome it.

"Should I," Bengali began uncertainly, eyes shifting between them. "Should I leave for a moment?"

With the stillness broken, everything crashed down on Lion-o with overwhelming force. It became difficult to breathe. Not glancing at Bengali, he turned on his heel and ran in the other direction, wanting to get away from the crushing feeling.

* * *

><p>Tygra found him an hour later, of course. He knew all of Lion-o's favorite places to go when he didn't want to be found, a problem Lion-o was beginning to think needed fixing.<p>

"Come on, scoot over," Tygra instructed, leaning his back against the trunk of tree next to Lion-o. They sat in silence for several minutes, listening to the wind rustling the leaves and watching children chase each other across the matted grass.

"Do you remember when you got stuck in this tree and I had to get you down?" Tygra asked, smiling to himself and tilting his head back to gaze at the leafy branches.

Lion-o took in his profile, the soft curve of his nose. The knowledge that it did not resemble Lion-o's nose in the slightest hurt more than it should have.

"No."

Tygra sighed and looked at him.

"I chased Snarf through the dirtiest back alleys and shadiest neighborhoods you can imagine. Of course he would choose the most complicated route to take." Lion-o averted his gaze, picking at a loose string on the hem of his shirt. "And when I got here, you were clinging to a branch with all your might. You nearly choked me on the way down, by the way. You'll be strong when you're older."

Lion-o frowned at his shirt, wondering what the point of the story was. If it was to prove how useless he was, a _cat _getting stuck in a _tree_, then he'd run away again and spend the rest of his life ignoring Tygra's existence. Tygra was stronger, but Lion-o was faster.

"Hey, how about listening when I'm proving a point," Tygra said. His soft tone was what made Lion-o obey him, because Tygra never spoke to him that way. He was all rough edges and sarcasm and charisma, the kind that made everyone love him but made Lion-o feel like he was chasing a hurricane.

"I've known you your whole life," he continued when he had Lion-o's full attention. "I held you the day you were born."

"How can you possibly remember that?" Lion-o asked skeptically.

"Don't interrupt," Tygra chided, giving him a quieting look. "I'm trying to be sentimental here.

"As I was saying, I've known you your whole life. And mine, too, really. That day I held you in my arms, that's the farthest back I can remember. My first memory is looking at your pudgy little face." He chuckled, plucking a dandelion from the ground and twirling it around with his fingers. "You reached out and grabbed my nose, I swear it was the most adorable thing I've ever seen.

"Stuff like that... knowing each other like that, I mean _really _knowing each other, like no one else does; that's what makes us brothers, Lion-o. We may have our differences, we may get at each other's throats every other day, and we may not have the same blood running through our veins. But believe me when I say that you will _always _be my little brother, whether you like it or not."

Something tightened in Lion-o's chest and a lump rose to his throat.

"But... what about Bengali?" he asked in a small voice.

"Bengali is blood, and that will never change," Tygra said sternly. "He, too, is my brother. But he can never replace you. Okay?"

Lion-o bit his lip and looked away, finally able to breathe again. The tidal wave of panic and jealousy had at last receded, but this revelation would still take getting used to.

"Okay," he replied, looking at him shyly. "You'll always be my brother, too."

Tygra winked playfully.

"I was counting on it. Now let's go finish our sparring match."


	5. Nightmares

**Author's note: **Hey guys, sorry for the delay with this one (as well as for the length, which is obviously lacking). This chapter takes place in Lion-o's early childhood and ends when he's nine, and Tygra, thirteen.

If you guys are interested, I actually drew some ThunderKittens art over on my art blog, in which poor Snarf endures the abuse of a five-year-old. You can find the link to it on my profile page. :)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own ThunderCats no matter how much I wish I did.

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><p><strong>Chapter Five: Nightmares<strong>

Tygra always knew when Lion-o was having a nightmare. After years of waking up to the small prince shaking him urgently, fear illuminating his bright green eyes in the dark, one could say he had developed a sixth sense for such nights.

When the sense of alertness would wash over him, he would lie patiently in bed, waiting for the soft footfalls that would announce Lion-o's approach.

"Tygra," Lion-o would hiss. "Tygra!"

"What is it this time?" Tygra would ask expectantly, sitting up to make room for him.

Then would come the description of Lion-o's latest night terror, which would range anywhere from abandonment to being chased by a homicidal mutant. Most of the time it would be something truly outrageous, the kind of nightmare that only innocent children would dream up; such as Snarf growing to giant proportions and squashing them all with his foot.

Yet every once in a while, Lion-o would tell Tygra about a truly terrifying dream. There was one in particular that had made Tygra's skin crawl; it was about a red-eyed demon that controlled its victims' bodies long after it had killed them, making them attack members of their families. When Lion-o had run to find Tygra, he was already under the monster's control, blood seeping from his empty eyes. It was a tale that Tygra would remember for years after hearing it.

In the comfort of Tygra's arms, Lion-o would whisper his dreams with a tremor in his voice. Eventually, the trembling would subside, and the fear would drain out of Lion-o with every word until nothing was left but a tired cub and sleep on the horizon.

Tygra did not mind these late night sessions, and was even somewhat covetous of them. A selfish part of him enjoyed having something between him and his brother that no one else had, a secret slice of knowledge shared behind the curtain of darkness that fell over Thundera; so when Tygra's mind would be inexplicably alert long after nightfall, he would sigh to himself and await Lion-o's arrival, wondering what kind of story awaited him that night.

One night, the footfalls never came.

He lay wide-awake in bed, listening for telltale creaks and shuffling, but his ears were only met with the calm silence of the palace. An hour passed, followed by another. When it became apparent that no one was coming, everything suddenly felt very wrong. The sheets Tygra was lying on felt foreign. The rustling of leaves outside were too noisy. His breathing felt strange and off.

It was just _wrong._

He gazed up at the ceiling. Contemplated making the trek to Lion-o's room to find out what had happened. Swiftly decided against it. The night dragged on, and he hardly got any sleep, his mind a whirlwind of questions begging to be answered.

In the morning, he arrived so early to breakfast that he startled the maid. Barely five minutes later, Lion-o trailed in after him, looking every bit as exhausted as Tygra felt.

"Morning," Tygra greeted, gauging his movements with the utmost scrutiny.

"Morning," Lion-o mumbled back, dropping into his seat without a glance at Tygra.

"Sleep well?" Tygra inquired.

Lion-o raised his head and their eyes locked.

"Fine."

The lie hung between them like the heavy night. In that moment, Tygra understood that Lion-o would never again come to him seeking comfort after a nightmare. It was an era of his childhood that had passed abruptly and without warning, leaving Tygra feeling, for the time being, somewhat empty. The selfish part of him that clung to their exclusive moments together wished Lion-o would never grow up, because he knew growing up meant secrets and drifting. Growing up meant there would be less room in his life for Tygra.

Soon he learned to relinquish the grip he had held on such precious moments together and accept his ever-changing role in Lion-o's life. But every once in a while, Tygra still lay awake in bed, listening for soft footfalls that never came.


	6. Sixth Sense

**Author's Note:** So I think from now on I'll be updating once a week. I'm moving in a week and a half (yay, college!), and consequently have been really busy lately. How does Tuesday sound for updates? I like Tuesdays. For now. We'll see how I feel about them once school starts.

The idea for this chapter was given to me by one awesome reviewer, L. Burke, who suggested exploring Tygra's telepathic powers more. This is in reference to the original show, since so far there hasn't been anything on them in the new series. But hey, the show's still new, so who knows? His Jedi mind tricks might resurface eventually!

Additionally, I forgot _again _to credit the last chapter! I swear I'm not doing this on purpose. The idea came, once again, from the Ask-Tygra blog on Tumblr. Someone asked something along the lines of, "As a kid, did Lion-o ever call you after having a nightmare?" The user replied (and again, I'm paraphrasing), "If I said yes, he would never forgive me." And thus, a plot bunny was born!

**Edit:** Oh my God you guys, I'm so sorry for the THREE notifications. I kept finding typos! If there's another one, screw it, I'm leaving it in.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own ThunderCats. Which really sucks. :(

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><p><strong>Chapter Six: Sixth Sense<strong>

Tygra first began to notice that he was not like the other cats when he was ten.

He supposed the signs might have been there for a while, but he had always dismissed them as a brother's intuition; things like knowing exactly how to hold Lion-o to make him stop crying, or easily discovering where he was hiding when they were playing hide-and-seek. And, of course, there were those nights when Tygra knew not to fall asleep, and within an hour, his nightmare-plagued brother would sneak into his room seeking comfort.

However, one day, it became apparent to him that his extra sense was not limited to Lion-o. That revelation came to him in the form of a murder attempt.

The royal family was seated at the large dinner table, with Lion-o prattling on about his lessons and the games he played that day with Snarf. By all standards, it was a typical evening; yet something kept nagging at Tygra's mind. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, distracted.

When the servants brought out their meal, a wave of nausea hit Tygra. A single malicious thought, like a slim thread, whispered through his mind, making him shudder. His eyes traveled of their own accord until they locked on to a single maid, hanging back behind the servants.

The cats set their plates before them, then others approached and set the food on the table. Bowls of bright, fresh fruit and mashed potatoes were laid carefully upon the polished surface. A huge carcass was placed in the center, a mouth-watering scent wafting from its golden-brown flesh. Their goblets were filled with juice. Tygra kept his eyes trained on the maid the entire time, unaware of his surroundings.

The soft _cling _of silverware as Lion-o picked up his fork snapped Tygra back to reality.

He shoved Lion-o's plate back, ignoring his protests.

"Father!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "The food's been poisoned!"

It was silent as everyone turned to look at Tygra in shock. Then, chaos as the maid turned and attempted to flee the scene, pushing past a servant carrying a platter of bread. The startled cat dropped the plate, sending it clattering to the floor. The noise made another servant jump, spilling a jug full of grape juice.

"After her!" a guard shouted unnecessarily, as the other guards were already moving. The servants carrying the food moved hesitantly in confusion, trying to get out of the way but only succeeding in spilling more food and blocking the exit.

Claudus stood and beckoned Tygra, who had already grabbed Lion-o. They huddled close together while the panic subsided, the king's strong arms encircling them protectively. The servants had been more or less shoved out of the room and more guards, including two clerics, had taken their place.

"Well?" Claudus asked, as a cleric stooped to sniff the food.

"It does contain traces of poison, My Lord," the cleric replied.

The king turned to the guards expectantly.

"Would anyone like to tell me how this happened?" he thundered. "My sons could have been killed!"

As one, the guards shrank back and looked at the ground shamefully. No one had an answer for the agitated king.

"My Lord," said a cleric, appearing at Claudus' side. Tygra started, not having seen him come in. "We've apprehended the maid responsible. We intend to interrogate her to find out if she worked alone or was hired, and if she had any accomplices."

Claudus nodded once. "Good." He signaled a guard forward. "Make sure all the food is burned. I want no deaths in or outside the palace because of this."

Once the most of the guards had been dismissed and several bewildered maids had cleaned the mess off the floor, everyone's eyes turned once again to stare at Tygra.

"What?" Tygra asked defensively, his ears sinking.

"Tygra," Claudus said calmly. He had to crane his neck to meet the lion's fierce gaze. "How did you know the food was poisoned?"

"I..." Tygra suddenly felt hot, as though each set of eyes boring into him was a ray of intense heat. "I don't know... It just felt wrong."

"What did?"

He tried to connect what had happened to words and found the task impossibly frustrating, especially since Tygra had no idea what had happened, himself. It was like trying to explain music to a deaf man.

"The room. The air? I felt sick for no reason," Tygra struggled to explain. "And she felt weird, the maid. She was thinking bad thoughts."

Silence. No one even breathed. Tygra was sure that, if he strained his ears, he could hear the echo of silence bouncing off the walls.

"You... Heard her thoughts?" Cluadus asked in disbelief.

"Just _a _thought," Tygra corrected, tugging absently at his collar. "Like a whisper. _'Kill them all.' _And then I just knew."

For the first time in Tygra's memory, the great king seemed to be at a loss for words.


	7. Blessings

**Author's Note:** Thanks again for everyone who's been suggesting ficlet ideas and whatnot! I take all of your suggestions under consideration, but remember that in the end, I'm going to write what I choose to write. Don't be upset if I don't write exactly what you want me to write, because I really appreciate all of your ideas! :)

Someone commented that Tygra's abilities were limited to illusions in the old show and it was Cheetara who had "sixth sense" abilities. I'm actually fully aware of this, but, as I have stated before, I will take whatever liberties I want to take. I've already taken several haha. Personally, I think it's more interesting if I take Tygra's powers of illusion one step further and have him be slightly telepathic as well.

Phew, this is a long chapter! It's kind of choppy in my opinion, but urgh, I just don't know how to fix it. Also, I think Jaga is slowly turning into Dumbledore in this story...

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill.

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven: Blessings<strong>

It was one of the smallest sections of the palace library, tucked away in the farthest corner with only a handful of books gracing its shelf. When Lion-o had asked about it at dinner, Claudus had paused for the briefest of moments before telling him it was nothing he should concern himself with; those were books better left to collect dust.

Naturally, that had only piqued Lion-o's curiosity. The next day, to the consternation of the maids, all of the dozen or so books in the section mysteriously disappeared.

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><p>"Listen to this," Lion-o said excitedly, his bright eyes fixed on the open book in his lap. "'Commander Caraco once stumbled across a colony of wayward mutants in his travels...'" He stopped and looked up at Tygra. "What does 'wayward' mean?"<p>

"Changing or turning in different directions," Tygra supplied, frowning thoughtfully. "Or disobedient."

"Who were they disobeying?" Loin-o questioned.

"I don't know! Just keep reading," Tygra said irritably.

"'The mutants, Caraco discovered, had old, broken down metal carriages, which they said once moved on their own, without any aid from mounts,'" Lion-o read breathlessly. "Wow!"

"Sounds bogus," Tygra dismissed, turning back to his homework.

"Nuh-uh!" Lion-o retorted. "Technology's real! A bunch of our ancestors have seen it!"

"Don't believe everything you read," Tygra said. "There's no proof that technology ever existed."

Lion-o wanted desperately to argue, but he had to admit that Tygra was right. There _wasn't _any proof that technology was real. Maybe it was up to him to find that proof.

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><p>Without any other means of finding what he was looking for – and not really knowing what it was he was looking for, himself – Lion-o resigned himself to traipsing down the back alleys of Thundera with Snarf in tow.<p>

"The city has many hidden secrets," Jaga had once told him. "One just needs to look for them."

Lion-o hadn't the slightest clue where to look, but he hoped that, through relentless searching and sheer luck, he would stumble upon the right secret.

It took him three months and several painful blisters on his feet to find it, but he did; a small, rickety shop in the recesses of a foul-smelling alley, in a questionable neighborhood. Snarf's hackles had been interminably raised for the past eight blocks, and he kept making nervous noises every time someone shot them a suspicious look.

Parting a dingy scrap of fabric that was hanging over the entrance to the shop, Lion-o stepped inside and lowered his hood. The shop was small and crowded with shelves stacked high with strange objects. A lantern placed on a desk in the center of the room was the only source of light, bathing everything in a soft, yellow glow.

"What's this, now?"

An old cat emerged from behind a shelf, appraising Lion-o with one milky eye; the other eye was missing, light scar tissue taking its place. He was tall and bulky, and as he approached, Lion-o saw that he heavily favored his right leg.

"What's a cub with a fancy cloak like that doin' in these parts?" the shopkeeper questioned in a gruff voice, eyeing Snarf as he hid behind Lion-o's leg.

"I'm, um... looking for technology," Lion-o said, trying not to stare at his empty eye socket.

The cat tipped back his head and barked a laugh, causing Lion-o to jump. Snarf pawed insistently at Lion-o's leg, eager to leave.

"Well, I never thought I'd see the day," he said, shaking his head. "What for?"

Lion-o stared up at him silently, absently kicking his leg to dislodge Snarf.

"Alright, I get it. We all have our reasons. You want to see technology, do ya?" the shopkeeper asked, waiting for Lion-o to nod before proceeding. "Well, follow me, then."

Excitement blossomed in Lion-o's chest at the prospect of finally reaching his goal. He followed the old cat as he first paused to take the lantern off the desk, then headed toward the back of the room. Snarf trailed behind reluctantly.

"I pawned this off a traveler years ago," the shopkeeper said, nodding to the pile of wires and metal on the desk. "Took it apart and put it back together more times than I could count, but I can't get the blasted thing to work."

Lion-o stood on his tiptoes and peered at the odd metal contraption gleaming in the candlelight.

"What's it supposed to be?" he asked, reaching forward to touch a wire.

"Hell if I know," the cat admitted. "Some sort of weapon, most likely. See that handle there?"

Lion-o nodded, staring in wonder at his first taste of technology.

"That's not all. I got all kinds of weird gizmos back here."

"Do any of them work?"

The cat laughed again.

"Kid, if it worked, do you think I'd still be a shack smack in the middle of this filthy neighborhood?"

Lion-o didn't say anything, turning once again to the desk, this time with mild disappointment. He may have found what was once technology, but he was still nowhere near proving its existence.

"How much for it?" he asked suddenly, reaching for his coin pouch.

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><p>Much to his father's dismay, Lion-o soon became obsessed with technology. Every week, he would go out with his allowance come home with new gadgets, a determined expression on his face. Then, he would sit for hours in his room or out on the balcony, tinkering and pulling things apart with renewed persistence. Attempting to talk him out of it proved useless, so Claudus gave up and left Lion-o to his pursuits, hoping it was only a phase.<p>

Tygra was inclined to let Lion-o do whatever he wanted; he had always been a strange one, so Tygra was not surprised when he heard of his new hobby. What he wanted to know was, _why _technology? While most believed that the intriguing and the enigmatic nature of the subject alone was enough to capture the young prince's interest, Tygra knew his brother better than to believe that. He had a feeling there was more to his obsession than fun and games.

One warm, cloudy day, he strode into Lion-o's room where, as he had expected, the prince was seated on the floor, surrounded by wires and with a screwdriver in his hand.

"Hey, Lion-o," Tygra said amiably, coming to a stop next to him. "I'm going to the market. Do you want to come with me?"

"No thanks," Lion-o replied, not looking up from what he was doing.

Tygra dropped onto the floor next to him and picked up a circular piece of metal, turning it over in his hands.

"Why do you bother with this stuff?" he asked as Lion-o plucked the device from his hands. "It's just junk."

"It's not junk," Lion-o said, scowling at nothing in particular.

"Could've fooled me," Tygra mumbled. They sat in silence for several minutes, Lion-o taking the device apart and Tygra watching him. After a while, Lion-o carefully put his tools down and stared at his hands in his lap.

"Do you ever miss your parents, Tygra?" he asked quietly.

Tygra stiffened and looked away.

"I don't remember them."

"But do you miss them?" Lion-o asked again.

Tygra gave him a searching look.

"Sometimes," he confessed. "But it's not so much missing them as... wishing I knew them."

"It's the same with my mom," Lion-o said. "Maybe, with technology... if I can figure it out..."

Tygra's stomach dropped as he realized what Lion-o was getting at.

"Lion-o, that's necromancy," he cried, aghast.

"What?"

"Dark magic," Tygra explained impatiently, outraged. "You can't bring people back from the dead!"

"But it's not magic!" Lion-o protested, ears sinking low.

"I don't care what you call it, it's _wrong_," Tygra said firmly.

Lion-o burst into tears, bringing his knees up to his chest and hiding his face between them. What Jaga called his 'big brother instinct' kicked in and Tygra pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him.

"I can't believe that's what this is about," he muttered, pulling back and wiping away Lion-o's face with his sleeve. "I know you wish you had a mom. I understand, really. But the dead should stay dead, Lion-o. That's just the way things are."

"It's not fair though," Lion-o hiccuped.

"Unfortunately, that's how life works," Tygra told him.

He recalled a time when he was around Lion-o's age, wallowing in the cruelty of it all. How he had wished he could travel back in time and see his parents' faces; whose eyes did he inherit? Was his father brave and proud? Did his mother smell like lavender? The feelings of grief and self-pity had been overwhelming, and he had curled in on himself, hiding from the world.

It was Jaga who had found him huddled in a secluded corridor, and he had thanked the stars it wasn't Claudus. If the king had found out he had been crying, Tygra would have felt forever ashamed in his presence. As it was, Jaga had crouched down next to him and listened to his troubles, his wise eyes free of judgment.

"Life is seldom fair, Tygra," he had told him gently. "But we must work with what the fates have given us, and make the best of it. Do not dwell of what you've lost, but rather, what you have been blessed with."

Tygra wiped away the last of Lion-o's tears and gazed upon him serenely. He had long since learned to appreciate what had been given to him; a home, a kingdom, a father, and a brother whom he loved above all others. He hoped that, one day, Lion-o would learn to count his blessings as well, and that Tygra would be included in them.


End file.
